The Picnic
by Nurple
Summary: Daria and Helen attend a "formal" company picnic.


# The Picnic

### By [Neo Hippy Purple][1]

Daria stood up and stretched, gathering her books, and heading out of the class with the rest of the Honors AP English students at Lawndale High School, in Lawndale, CT. Lawndale being Lawndale, there were only fifteen students in the class. She headed to her locker to grab her lunch. She had a lot on her mind.

  
  


Jane met Daria outside for lunch break. Jane had a piece of pizza, a soda, and a brownie. Daria had a salad and a Snapple.

  
  


Jane: Daria, you're not turning waif on me, are you? 

  
  


Daria: No, I'm not. 

  
  


Jane: Then why aren't you eating more than Snapple and salad? 

  
  


Daria: For one thing, my mom's making me come with her to the firm's picnic this evening, and I need to save room for later. For another thing, my doctor says I weigh too much for my height. 

  
  


Jane: What!? You're the most petite person I know. 

  
  


Daria: That's the point. I'm 5'2", and the doctor took knee x-rays. It doesn't look like I'm going to get any taller in the next few years, and I weigh 120, which sounds like a normal weight, but apparently is as high as I should go. So I have to cut back on pizza and excercize more. 

  
  


Jane: Does this mean you'll go running with me? 

  
  


Daria: No freaking way, Lane. I'll stick to basic excercizes and gym class. If the doc says I have to take a sport, then I'll just do soccor. That way I get to kick big dumb things around like I do now, and I wont get in trouble for it. 

  
  


Jane: You're twisted, Daria. Really twisted. 

  
  


Daria: Mm. Thanks. 

  
  


They had finished their lunches by then, so Daria and Jane headed inside and to the library for the last 15 minutes of lunch. 

  
  


When the day was over, Jane and Daria parted ways, and Daria walked in her living room door to find Helen at home. 

  
  


Daria: Mom? What are you doing here? 

  
  


Helen: Daria, DON'T tell me you've forgotten about the picnic! 

  
  


Daria: I haven't. But that's not for another... three hours. 

  
  


Helen: Yes, and I checked your closet and this is a formal picnic. You don't have anything suitable to wear! 

  
  


Daria: Formal... Picnic... Right. 

  
  


Helen: Everyone will be dressed up, and they'll be bringing children, and they'll be dressed up, too, you know.

  
  


Daria: Fine, if I have to dress up, I'll go to Jane's and find something. Her big sisters left a lot of stuff at home when they moved out. 

  
  


Helen: No, not old stuff, please! Just come to Cashmans with me and Quinn and- 

  
  


Daria: It's Quinn and me, mom, and Quinn will goad and goad you untill you ignore what I want and pick out for me a pink dress that she will confiscate the next day. I've seen it before, and that is why I'm heading to Jane's. 

  
  


And with that, she hurried out the door to her friend's house. When she got there, the front door was open and movers were taking stuff out. Jane followed one guy, asking him not to drop anything. 

  
  


Daria: What's going on here? 

  
  


Jane: Can you belive it? Mom came home and got so space-protective that she kicked Trent out! He's gonna stay in Jesse's apartment and get a job. Of course I know I'm going to come home from school one of these days and find Trent asleep on the couch, with the claim that he'd been waiting for me. 

  
  


Trent: (OS) I have more integrity than that, little sister! 

  
  


Jane: That's why you crashed dad's car and claimed that you'd been babysitting Nick's kid? 

  
  


Trent: Hey! 

  
  


By now, Trent had come out of the house and was staring distantly across the yard. Daria could see the sorrowfull look, masked by squinting and frowning. Trent was sad to leave, and both Daria and Jane knew it. Trent looked over to where Daria was standing. 

  
  


Trent: Oh, hey Daria. 

  
  


Daria: Mm, hi. Jane, can I talk to you for a sec? 

  
  


Jane: Sure. 

  
  


They headed inside and up to Jane's room. 

  
  


Jane: Shoot. 

  
  


Daria: It's like this. This 'picnic' mom was taking me to is a FORMAL picnic, and I have to wear something classy. I need your help, because I don't want to end up in a pink nightmare from cashman's that Quinn picked out "just for me" and will borrow and keep the next day. So can you help me out? 

  
  


Jane: Sure can, sister. Follow me. 

  
  


She led Daria to one of the many upstairs rooms in the Lane household. Apparently it's occupant took a suitcase and not much else when they left. 

  
  


Jane: This was Penny's room. I'd take you to Summer's but she was more of a Neo Hippy, and everything is flimsy and light and purple in there. Let's see, now. 

  
  


She went to the closet and started sifting through things, looking at some and keeping them, looking at others and putting them back. 

  
  


Jane: Here we are. 

  
  


She pulled out a long black skirt with a thigh high slit on the left side, and a grey sleevless turtleneck, and handed them both to Daria. She pulled out a pair of black sandles as well, and set them on the floor. 

  
  


Jane: I'll leave you to change. 

  
  


Daria looked sceptical, but she put it on anyway. She had some difficulty with the shoes, but they were an okay fit. 

  
  


Jane: Can I come in, now? 

  
  


Daria: (resigned) Yeah. 

  
  


Daria looked great in the skirt, and the top made her look taller. Jane nodded her approval, and put Daria's hair up in a bun with a grey scrunci. 

  
  


Jane: There ya go, fit as a fiddle. 

  
  


Daria: Thanks. 

  
  


She opened her door to find, to her dismay, Trent standing right in front of it. To his amusement, she smacked Jane upside the head and headed home, grunting because of the shoes. 

  
  


She completed her journey none the worse for the wear, and headed in her door. Helen looked over and gasped. 

  
  


Helen: You look wonderfull! A little gloomy in the color scheme, but still good! 

  
  


Quinn came down the stairs and looked enviously at Daria. SHE had wanted to go to the picnic, but Helen argued that she'd gone last year. So this year Daria got to go, and she looked better than Quinn had. She sighed and headed back up. 

  
  


Helen: Did you hear something? 

  
  


Daria: Only the lonely echo of Quinn's crushed ego. She probably came down and saw me in this get-up. Remember the pink skirt and top she wore last year? She's comparing our outfits and finding mine looks better. 

  
  


Helen: Oh, dear. Is there anything I can do? 

  
  


Daria: Just don't take pictures of me and hang them around the house. She'll get even more jealous. 

  
  


Helen: Okay. Although I did want to put a picture of you up on the wall. Let's get going. 

  
  


Daria: We have another two and a half hours, mom. 

  
  


Helen: I know that, but the picnic is an hour's drive away, at Windsor Hills, and I volunteered to help set up. 

  
  


Daria: Great. 

  
  


Helen: (sigh) Amy will be there, if that helps. 

  
  


Daria: Why? 

  
  


Helen: I told her about the picnic, and she mentioned that she would be there today for a wedding. Her college roomate Claire is getting married to some man named Allen. 

  
  


Daria: Cool. 

  
  


She grabbed a black purse from the counter and headed out to the SUV. 

  
  


Helen: We're taking the Lexus, Daria. 

  
  


Daria sighed and changed her route to the Lexus, and got in the passenger door. 

  
  


Helen: You're driving. 

  
  


Daria: I hope you don't care if I crash the car. 

  
  


Helen: Daria... 

  
  


Daria scooted over and turned the key in the ignition. The car roared to life and they drove south along the interstate. It was silent for a few minutes untill Daria turned on the radio to the local country station. 

  
  


Helen: I didn't know you liked country music, Daria. 

  
  


Daria: I don't. Good driving music, though. Annoys the passenger. 

  
  


And with that, she turned the radio up louder. Helen sighed and leaned on her window. 

  
  


They got there an hour before the picnic was to start, and Daria handed the car keys to the valet. Heading inside, Daria caught a glimpse of Amy in the main hall, sitting boredly on a bench. She mosied on over and sat down. 

  
  


Daria: Hey, Amy. 

  
  


Amy: Hey, Daria. Having a good day? 

  
  


Daria: I'm in formal wear. Formal wear borrowed from a woman named Penny Lane. 

  
  


Amy: Huh? 

  
  


Daria: My best friend's big sister. Who happens to be out of the country. In Nicaragua. 

  
  


Meanwhile, at Lake Titicaca, in Nicaragua... 

  
  


Penny: Get the hell away from my stand, Caffine boy! Chaquito, get 'im! 

  
  


Beavis: Heh, heh heh! My name is Cornholio! I need TeePee for my bung holio! Are you threatening me? 

  
  


Penny: Sure as hell am, fucknut! Get the hell away from my stand! 

  
  


Back in the hotel... 

  
  


Amy: Okaaay, then. 

  
  


Helen: (OS) Daria! I need your help! 

  
  


Daria: Great. Peechy keen. Coming. 

  
  


She waved goodbye to Amy and headed into the red room. 

  
  


Daria: What is it? 

  
  


Helen: Can you hand me that banner? 

  
  


Daria: Which one? 

  
  


She looked on at the multitude of banners. 

  
  


Helen: The one that says "Vitale, Davis, Horowitz, Riordan, Schrecter, Schrecter, and Schrecter Annual Company Picnic." 

  
  


Daria: Are you sure that's gonna fit across the entrance? 

  
  


Helen: We've used it every year before since two years ago when Eric made partner. 

  
  


She frowned and took the proffered banner from Daria, pushing the pins in with vehemence. 

  
  


Daria looked at her funny and headed outside to sit down. 

  
  


Pretty soon, people Daria knew, and some that she didn't know, started to arrive. She was startled when Ms. Defoe, the art teacher at Lawndale High, came waltzing in in a wedding dress. She looked extremely nervous.

  
  


Ms. Defoe: What am I going to do? I'm not ready for this. Ohhh...

  
  


She put her hands to her head in frustration and sat on the bench next to Daria.

  
  


Ms. Defoe: Daria? What are you doing here?

  
  


Daria: Company picnic with mom's law firm. I would have asked out but I heard my Aunt Amy was coming here for a wedding of one of her friends. Presumably you. Congratulations?

  
  


Ms. Defoe nodded weakly and headed to the restrooms. Helen came out looking for Daria and motioned her over.

  
  


Helen: Daria, quick. They're about to start!

  
  


Daria sighed, stood, and headed in. Her seat had been marked with "Guest of Helen Morgendorffer" She sat down and waited for something to happen. Eric Schrecter took the podium.

  
  


Eric: Every year, we start out our picnic with announcing a change, be it a new partner, a replacement partner, or a retiring partner. This year, we'll be announcing a new partner. This woman has brought glory to the firm since she started here, around the time I was made partner. She works hard and sometimes makes the difficult decision of putting her work before her family to propel us to success. This woman has made partner. This woman, is Helen Morgendorffer, give 'er a hand, everybody!

  
  


Everyone clapped, even a surprised Daria. Helen stood and went to the front to recieve the plaque of eight hands, each one representing a different partner. The clapping subsided, and Helen gave a quick speach and sat down.

  
  


The dinner served was a chicken salad, or filet du porqe. Daria, with prodding from Helen, chose the salad over the pork, and ate it up. After dinner, a dessert of Krokan was served, and everyone went home, full. In the car, Daria congratulated her mom.

  
  


Daria: Good job, mom. You made it. I actually don't know what to say.

  
  


Helen: Thank-you, Daria. And actually, this is going to work out for everyone. See, being partner means working less hours and getting more money. We actually might be able to buy some vacation property in Greece or Italy. (dreamy voice) I've always wanted to go to Greece or Italy.

  
  


Daria: I'd rather go to Spain myself, but this is all too cool for words. (Sotto) Did I actually say that?

  
  


They drove on in silence, untill Daria smirked and turned on the radio.

  
  


Radio: o/ We gotta round up the posse. o/ o/Round up the posse. o/

  
  


The End.

  
  


Daria is copyright 2000, Music Television, MTV, a division of Viacom International, Inc. All rights reserved. Used without permission. This fanfic is copyright 2000, by the person who's alias is Neo Hippy Purple. All rights reserved. Feel free to distribute this, so long as the author's name and email address, and the entire content of this story remain intact.

   [1]: mailto:neohippypurple@hotmail.com



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